The Mystery of the Blue Train by Agatha Christie Page B

china-blue eyes very wide and gave a little sigh.
    â€œA real murder,” said Mr. Evans gloatingly.
    â€œOf course Chubby had no idea of anything of the kind,” went on Lady Tamplin; “he simply could not imagine why the police wanted you. My dear, what an opportunity! I think, you know—yes, I certainly think something might be made out of this.”
    A calculating look rather marred the ingenuousness of the blue eyes.
    Katherine felt slightly uncomfortable. They were just finishing lunch, and she looked in turn at the three people sitting round the table. Lady Tamplin, full of practical schemes; Mr. Evans, beaming with naïve appreciation, and Lenox with a queer crooked smile on her dark face.
    â€œMarvellous luck,” murmured Chubby; “I wish I could have gone along with you—and seen—all the exhibits.” His tone was wistful and childlike.
    Katherine said nothing. The police had laid no injunctions of secrecy upon her, and it was clearly impossible to suppress the bare facts or try to keep them from her hostess. But she did rather wish it had been possible to do so.
    â€œYes,” said Lady Tamplin, coming suddenly out of her reverie, “I do think something might be done. A little account, you know, cleverly written up. An eyewitness, a feminine touch: ‘ How I chatted with the dead woman, little thinking —’ that sort of thing, you know.”
    â€œRot!” said Lenox.
    â€œYou have no idea,” said Lady Tamplin in a soft, wistful voice, “what newspapers will pay for a little titbit! Written, of course, by someone of really unimpeachable social position. You would not like to do it yourself, I daresay, Katherine dear, but just give me the bare bones of it, and I will manage the whole thing for you. Mr. de Haviland is a special friend of mine. We have a little understanding together. A most delightful man—not at all reporterish. How does the idea strike you, Katherine?”
    â€œI would much prefer to do nothing of the kind,” said Katherine bluntly.
    Lady Tamplin was rather disconcerted at this uncompromising refusal. She sighed and turned to the elucidation of further details.
    â€œA very striking-looking woman, you said? I wonder now who she could have been. You didn’t hear her name?”
    â€œIt was mentioned,” Katherine admitted, “but I can’t remember it. You see, I was rather upset.”
    â€œI should think so,” said Mr. Evans; “it must have been a beastly shock.”
    It is to be doubted whether, even if Katherine had remembered the name, she would have admitted the fact. Lady Tamplin’s remorseless cross-examination was making her restive. Lenox, who was observant in her own way, noticed this, and offered to take Katherine upstairs to see her room. She left her there, remarking kindly before she went: “You mustn’t mind Mother; she would make a few pennies’ profit out of her dying grandmother if she could.”
    Lenox went down again to find her mother and stepfather discussing the newcomer.
    â€œPresentable,” said Lady Tamplin, “quite presentable. Her clothes are all right. That grey thing is the same model that Gladys Cooper wore in Palm Trees in Egypt. ”
    â€œHave you noticed her eyes—what?” interposed Mr. Evans.
    â€œNever mind her eyes, Chubby,” said Lady Tamplin tartly; “we are discussing things that really matter.”
    â€œOh, quite,” said Mr. Evans, and retired into his shell.
    â€œShe doesn’t seem to me very—malleable,” said Lady Tamplin, rather hesitating to choose the right word.
    â€œShe has all the instincts of a lady, as they say in books,” said Lenox, with a grin.
    â€œNarrow-minded,” murmured Lady Tamplin. “Inevitable under the circumstances, I suppose.”
    â€œI expect you will do your best to broaden her,” said Lenox, with a grin, “but